Lyra and the Philosophers Stone
by GeassOfWriting
Summary: On the train Harry and Ron meet Lyra, a mysterious and charming pureblood with numerous secrets concerning her past. Together this new trio overcome the difficulties their first year hold and well as mysteries surrounding Lyra and the secrets she keeps.
1. The train & new beginnings

Harry and Ron sat surrounded by sweets, discussing everything from Quidditch to Harry's muggle primary school. Whilst having only known each other for an hour or two the two boys had instantly bonded and were fast friends. In midst of an explanation by Ron concerning the rules of Quidditch, a knock sounded from the compartment door.

Turning their heads they saw the door slide open and in its place stood a girl. Appearing about the same age as them was a petite yet confident child. She had golden blonde curls kept off her face by a green headband, framing a heart-shaped face containing sea-green eyes and an up-turned nose. Already dressed in her robes she smirked.

"So this is the famous Harry Potter," the girl finally spoke, a melodious but smug tone emerging, "I have to admit that I was expecting more… well at least from what I've been told."

Ron instantly became defensive of his new friend, "and what have you heard?"

Laughing, "honestly not much, only what the boy I was sharing a compartment with told me. I'm not very informed with recent events in the Wizarding World."

Harry became instantly curious, "are you muggle-born then?"

For some reason the girl found this hilarious and an amused smirk appeared on her face, "Merlin no! I'm Pureblood."

"Then wh-" Harry was cut off.

"I'm Lyra." The girl-Lyra-held out her hand and Harry hesitantly shook it. "Can I sit with you?"

Ron being ignored exclaimed "I do exist here as well!"

"I am aware," she stated in a patronising tone before looking Ron up and down.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Exclaimed Ron.

Sitting down she said, "you're a Weasley, aren't you? I can spot you lot from a mile away."

His cheeks turning red, "and what does that mean?"

"It means that you look quite similar to another Weasley I knew."

Unsure what to say next the trio sat in silence for several moments, the regular chugging of the train and the muffled talking of others the only noises heard. Harry shifted uncomfortably before turning to Lyra.

"So what house do you want to be in?" He broke the silence, "Ron and I want to be in Gryffindor."

Lyra furrowed her brows in concentration before announcing, "not Hufflepuff, definitely, my family would…"

As she trailed off, the subject of her family obviously a sore subject, Ron asked, "what do you think of the other houses? All my family have been in Gryffindor but my brothers Fred and George keep teasing that I'm going to end up in Hufflepuff."

"My parents were in Gryffindor-I think" Harry added, "but I'm not sure what the other houses are like."

Slowly Lyra said, "there has never been anyone in my kin who wasn't in Slytherin… however the possibility of ending up in Ravenclaw would not be too bad."

"Slytherin's full of bullies and dark wizards though." Ron remarked, poking Scabbers with the tip of his wand.

"Not everyone in Slytherin is malevolent," Lyra snapped, her expression becoming darker by the second, "it is the house of the great and ambitious."

Harry sat opposite both of his new friends, unsure of who to support, "Ron, I'm sure that not all Slytherins are evil."

Ron scoffed, "name one famous wizard from Slytherin that _wasn't_ evil!"

Immediately Lyra retaliated, "Merlin happened to be in Slytherin."

Ron's mouth immediately shut just as the compartment door opened for the second time in a few minutes.

Standing in the doorway were three boys including the white-blonde haired boy Harry had met during his robe fitting.

"Is it true?" the boy said, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

Unbeknown to the rest of the compartment Lyra was analysing each of the new entrants with narrow, piercing eyes as Harry replied.

"Yes." Unsure of what else to say Harry answered abruptly, not liking his odds of winning in an argument with the boy's two bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," he said without much care or interest in his voice, "and my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.

The name meant nothing to Harry whilst Lyra merely relaxed once more into her seat, realisation dawning upon her face. However Ron's reaction was less conspicuous and involved a cough, possibly disguised a snigger.

"Think my name's funny do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Before Ron could reply with an obvious and flawed retort, Lyra cut in and asked, "are you by chance any relation to Abraxus Malfoy?"

Draco turned his head slowly towards the third member of the compartment for the first time and said, "yes, he was my Grandfather. And you are?"

With much pride she replied, "Lyra Vega Myrcella Thorington."

Surprised by the obviously pureblooded name, Malfoy asked, "I don't recognise that name. Your parents must be blood traitors or muggles."

Rage being barely contained beneath a calm exterior hid at the edge of her reply, "Incorrect. My family are neither muggles nor blood traitors! My parents were as clean-blooded as possible."

"Were?" Curiosity overcoming Harry, causing him to enter the private conversation.

"Yes, _were._ They passed away a number of years ago." Lyra sharply replied.

Saying nothing more and merely turning back to Harry, "aside from Lyra, you'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

With a cold expression Harry coolly replied, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself thanks."

Malfoy and his bodyguards left the carriage without another word and the trio were once again left to themselves.

"Blimey Harry, you've just angered one of the most important Wizarding families. Also, everyone knows that his family were key supporters of _You-Know-Who!_"

Harry remained sure of his actions and confident with his choice of friends.

"Who?" Lyra's voice emerged from the corner.

Ron raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean who? The Malfoy's are-"

"No," Lyra cut off, "I'm not talking about that rude imbecile. My question concerns that _You-Know-Who _that you spoke of."

Both Ron and Harry were stunned by this question. Unsure of how to reply Ron said, "You're joking right. You said you weren't muggle-born!"

"I'm not." Confusion evident on Lyra's face quickly vanished as she buried that emotion deep beneath the surface.

Harry leant towards his new friend and whispered, "He means Voldemort."

Immediately Lyra's face dawned with recognition. "Of course, I'm so silly sometimes. Obviously I know who he is, I'm just unfamiliar with that title."

The trio would have continued the conversation however it was at this point that the train came to a stop and everyone rushed to exit the train.

Once shivering in the cold September air a voice called "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

Recognising Hagrid's voice Harry walked towards the familiar half-giant and was closely followed by Ron and Lyra.

Following the crowd the trio emerged on to the edge of a pitch-black lake where a small fleet of wooden boats bobbed.

"No more'n for to a boat!" Hagrid called and the trio eventually found a boat and where joined by Hagrid once the remainder of the first years had been seated.

"Forward!" Hagrid announced and the rickety contraptions slowly but surely began the journey across the lake.

Turning to the 11 year olds Hagrid smiled. "Nice t' see you 'gain Harry. Looks like you've found some frien's."

"Same Hagrid." Harry smiled happily, "This is Ron Weasley and Lyra." He pointed to each of them in turn.

"Well any frien's o' Harry's are frien's o' mine. Now, Ron, hope that you're not going t' be as much trouble as Fred an' George."

Ron shuffled uncomfortably, "I don't-I mean no." His cheeks turned a shade of red that would not look out of place on a tomato.

"That's good t'en. An' what did 'arry say your name was 'gain?" Hagrid smiled turning to Lyra.

Lyra replied "Lyra" however there was a look upon her face that resembled both uncertainty, guilt and distain.

Hagrid's eyes narrowed slightly in concentration before saying "'aven't seen you b'fore 'ave I? You seem familiar."

Quickly Lyra shook her head and confidently stated, "no sir, you must have me mistaken."

Lacking certainty Hagrid nodded, "what's your last name-in case I met one o' your family?"

"Thorington-however I have no family. My parents perished many years ago."

Before the enquiry could continue Hogwarts came into sight and the lake became silent as all stared in awe at the magnificent castle.

Harry and Ron stared awe-struck at the school, their wildest dreams having been met and surpassed. But none of them, perhaps only Hagrid, witnessed Lyra's reaction. Instead of the wonder that the others held, the only emotions that could be found on the child's face was regret and a touch of nostalgia.

**So that's chapter 1. Next chapter will be the sorting. All the chapters will include quotes from the books but the majority will be my own creation. I'm not known to be the most committed writer ever however I hope to get the next chapter up by the end of tomorrow. Please review and give constructive criticism.**

**The character Lyra is entirely my own creation and as the story progresses more information about her will be revealed, and I don't plan on her huge *secret* to be revealed till towards the end of the story. :D **


	2. A sorting and a separation

**Long chapter :D YAY**

Once the young students had made their way into the castle from the lakeside their curiosity and wonder only increased. Harry, in particular was gazing gobsmacked at every detail as the trio huddled in amazement.

The main door swung open and standing there was a tall, stern-looking woman in emerald-green robes.

Her stern appearance mirrored itself in her tone. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of Harry's old house in it however the only student who seemed less than awe-struck was Lyra who hid herself at the back of the group of students, seemingly hiding from the school itself. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

Immediately the teacher, who had by now been introduced as Professor McGonagall asset off cross the flagged stone floor, prompting the crowd to hesitantly and nervously follow.

Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. Lyra, refusing to allow this particular emotion to become evident in her, kept her line of sight on the back of the student in front, her concentration never wandering.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

McGonagall's speech which at any other occasion would have reached the point of boredom kept the majority of students enthralled at the prospect of the next seven years.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair and McGonagall's gaze wandered to Lyra where she momentarily made eye-contact with before hastily continuing.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She quickly left the hall. The tension and anxiety in the room seemed to increase beyond what was previously believed to be possible.

Harry swallowed. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he asked Ron and Lyra, who both had grown up in the Wizarding World.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Harry's heart gave a horrible jolt. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn't know any magic yet —what on earth would he have to do? He hadn't expected something like this the moment they arrived. He looked around anxiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too.

He turned to Lyra but was only met with a blank, vacant stare that made Harry feel uncomfortable after only a moment.

No one was talking much except a bushy-haired muggle-born named Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need to whichever unfortunate student she happened to trap, mainly a boy called Neville who appeared even more nervous than Harry. However, Harry tried hard not to listen to her. He'd never been more nervous, never, not even when he'd had to take a school report home to the Dursleys saying that he'd somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door, as did Lyra and together attempted to block out the frantic chatter with moderate success. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead him to his doom.

Suddenly a large proportion of the children gasped as several translucent spirits appeared, each, Harry thought, dressed even more unusually than the last. A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

"New students!" said the so-called Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely, not including Lyra who tried to avoid eye-contact with the ghost.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall, causing several students, including Neville to take their first breath since his arrival in the castle.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

The students immediately obeyed. Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind Lyra, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History." Harry turned his head to look at his friends and saw that Ron's mouth had fallen open rather unattractively and turning to his blonde companion saw her smile sadly before she met his glance and smirked half-heartedly back.

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house.

_Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it,_ Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing — noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. The new first years were all quite unsure of how to respond but after several seconds during which the reality of the singing hat was absorbed, Ron spoke.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" He whispered to his friends. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him. Ron seemed more angry with his brothers than nervous however Lyra surprisingly seemed to be allowed a sliver of anxiety to leak through her tough exterior.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.

Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her and he remembered that this was the house that Lyra wanted to be in least, unlike the least favourite that him and Ron had chosen-Slytherin.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling. Crossing his fingers he hoped that he was in Gryffindor where Ron was hoping to be in, and then felt a twang of quilt as he realised that Lyra was likely to not be joining them.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked like an unpleasant lot.

He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during P.E at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.

"Finnigan, Seamus," a sandy-haired boy near to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The girl named Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned, not wanting to be in the same house as the irritating know-it-all who spoke far too much.

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train? However, a comforting touch on the shoulder by Lyra, who looked to be growing uncomfortable the longer her hand remained, friendliness not being a strong aspect of her character.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool causing several students, particularly from the Slytherin table and also Lyra, to smirk and laugh. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself. There weren't many people left now. "Moon"… , "Nott"… , "Parkinson"… , then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"… , then "Perks, Sally-Anne"… , and then, at last —

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter, did she say?" _

"_The Harry Potter?" _

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him and Rona and Lyra giving an encouraging smile.

Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, however his dislike in the house had decreased marginally upon hearing Lyra's declaration about it.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat Hagrid, who caught his

eye and gave him the thumbs up. Harry grinned back. And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore. Harry recognized him at once from the card he'd gotten out of the Chocolate Frog on the train. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts. Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking very peculiar in a large purple turban and seemed to be staring curiously at one of the students not yet sorted, though Harry was at an inconvenient angle to see precisely who.

Before he could properly become aqquinted with the student surrounding him it became Lyra's turn.

"Thorington, Lyra"

As Lyra slowly approached the chair several teachers including Professor Dumbledore and Professor Quirrell were staring captivated by the young girl.

Once she was seated the hat was placed upon her head, looking distasteful on the proud pureblood.

Lyra's expression remained cold and collected for about half a minute until the hat loudly announced:

"SLYTHERIN"

She removed the hat and went to sit next to Malfoy, the table cheering. Harry's gut wrenched as he pondered the possibility of both of his friends being sorted elsewhere and him being left by himself as Ron and Lyra made new, cooler friends.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Harry crossed his fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest including Lyra, as Ron collapsed into the chair next to him.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

As the feast began Harry talked happily his Ron and several other Gryffindors, however glancing back at the Slytherin table he saw Lyra talking, well listening, as Malfoy was engaged in a vivid monologue.

**Thanks to the 19 views I had on chapter 1 in less than 24 hours, which is more than the views on my other stories combined. :D I am ecstatic. Hopefully I will be posting chapter 3 tomorrow, where classes begin and I am hoping to include a POV of Lyra and her first night in Slytherin. I'm trying to make Lyra as mysterious and unusual as will appear relatively unsuspicious to the other characters-If that makes sense. BTW, Hermione will not be a major role in this story as I've replaced her with my OC. **

**Please review if you deem my story worthy enough so far, as reviews are my main encouragement to write. This story will probably be maximum 10 chapters but I hope to do sequels for the rest of the years at Hogwarts but the sequel will probably not emerge until summer.**


End file.
